


What Just Happened?

by ShadeCrawler



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-15 06:25:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14785217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadeCrawler/pseuds/ShadeCrawler
Summary: I'm staring at the paper marked with red and I have no idea what just happened.





	What Just Happened?

I sit in class with my hands on my computer. I glance up every few seconds to fool the teacher in believing that I’m paying attention. I’ve been noticing that they send me these strange looks, as if they can see through my laptop and know that I’m not taking notes.

I bite back my sigh of relief when they announce that the information that we went through today will be placed on the class website. I’ve taken almost no notes today and I can’t risk falling behind. That said, I can’t seem to work up the energy or interest to take notes in this class. The teacher is obviously trying their best but, I feel like they’re trying to knock down a brick wall with educational videos and a desire to help.

They pulled me aside from class a few days ago to talk about my performance. They say that I’m not reaching my potential. If only I would work a little harder and maybe pay more attention, I could accomplish something great.

I push my laptop closed and reach for my bag. I rack my brain to understand why my teacher thinks I have potential in a subject I never took interest in. It has nothing to do with the path I want to take in life. I’m only taking it for a credit to graduate high school and I’m sure that they know that. So why the show of confidence?

I flinch as the bell goes off and students slam doors in an attempt to get home the fastest. My classmates maneuver around me as I take time to pack my supplies. I go through a checklist in my head. My dad is waiting to talk to me before I get on the bus. I know that I shouldn’t waste so much time gathering my things as I do but, I can’t stand pushing myself through crowds at the best of times. After doing so all day, I don’t think I’ll be able to handle it.

I swing my coat over my arm and, with my bag on my back, make my way to the exit. The teacher stops me before I can leave with a hand on my shoulder. I slouch, tired of this. I don’t have time to talk to them. I need to go and talk to my father before the second bell rings or all I’ll have time for is a quick peck on the cheek and a hasty farewell.

“May I have a moment of your time?” They ask.

I bite my lip and nod. While I want to leave, I know that refusing would reflect badly on me in the future. I once had a teacher who wrote _unwilling to accept help when offered_ on my report card and I am _unwilling_ to let that happen again.

I let them guide me to their desk and drag a chair over with me. They sit down across from me and send me a disarming smile.

“I know that you have a bus to catch so I’ll make this quick, okay?” I nod, plastering a polite smile on my face. I roll my eyes on to the ceiling as they rummage through the mess of paper on their desk. I need to be patient but, I do have places to be.

With a cry of excitement, she pulls a stapled pile of papers out and hands it to me with a smile. I take it, noting that it is an assignment that I handed in not too long ago. As expected there are several red scratches marking the papers, with a small tear where they pressed too hard on the page.

“As usual your work leaves something to be desired. You really do need to pay more attention in class.” I nod along at the right places, pretending for their words to sink in. I keep one eye on my phone as the time rolls by. I have ten minutes to catch my bus. At this rate, my dad will get a phone call on my way home.

My teacher waves a hand dismissively. “But that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about. It’s the story you wrote to go along with it.”  
  
I straighten up in my seat. “I don’t understand. That was the assignment, wasn’t it?” It’s a rhetorical question. I might not have read the rubric too closely but, I do know that the entire purpose of the assignment was to write a story using what we learned in class as a base point.

“It was. You didn’t follow the guidelines very closely though.” They frown at me, looking at me over their glasses. “If you want to raise your grade, you're going to have to read the assignments carefully. That’s something they’ll expect in University.”

I hold my smile and nod. Do they think I don’t know how hard University is going to be? I’m going into a program which I’m not that excited about to begin with, which requires a lot of work to get into, and I do not need a person explaining me things that I think about every day.

“That being said, I was wondering if you could print off another copy of your story for me.” I quirk my eyebrow at them. Did they not get enough red ink on the first copy I gave them?

“I wanted to give a copy of your story to a friend of mine. They know a lot more about writing than I do. I’m sure that they can give you a much better insight into the world of writing than I can.” They grab a sticky note from their desk and scribble down a name and phone number. They reach over and place it onto my stack of papers. "This is my friend's name. They get very excited about up and coming authors so they may call you. This is the number that they'll call you from." 

Thoughts churn in my head. What are they talking about? “I, I don’t understand. What do you mean? It’s just a stupid story I made for class. It’s nothing very special.”

My teacher looks both shocked and a little insulted. “I would not be giving this to my friend if I thought it was nothing special! You wrote a story that, while a little rough around the edges, has plenty of potential. You just need some help to guide you on the way.” They smile at me and pats the hand that’s holding my story. “Edit this, reprint it, and give it back to me. I’ll return it to you when my friend is finished with it.”

I nod numbly. _What is happening?_ My teacher is still speaking, saying something about working hard and the rewards that comes with hard work. But, the words just don’t make sense. I follow the teacher’s lead as they stand up and they lead me to the door. I give them a polite smile and nod before stepping out of the classroom. I glance back as the door closes behind me. The bell rings but the worry I had earlier about meeting my father isn’t as strong. I stare at the papers marked with red.

What just happened?


End file.
